


If Any Be Blameless	(The Condom Fatigue Remix)

by inksheddings



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-13
Updated: 2010-05-13
Packaged: 2017-10-09 10:26:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/86271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inksheddings/pseuds/inksheddings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam takes the keys, Gabriel takes the back seat, but nobody takes the easy way out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If Any Be Blameless	(The Condom Fatigue Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tuesday](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuesday/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Dean Won't Be Your Angel Condom](https://archiveofourown.org/works/74825) by [tuesday](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuesday/pseuds/tuesday). 



> I had oh so much fun working on this! Thanks to my beta, whymzycal, for cheers and speed. Thanks to tuesday for inspiration.

"It's really not my fault," Gabriel says, surprising Sam so much that he jumps up in his seat and whacks his head on the ceiling of the car.

"Okay, _that_ might have been my fault. But the thing with Dean and Zachariah and Castiel? Nope, not gonna take responsibility for that."

Sam doesn't appreciate at all that Gabriel's tone makes it sounds like the aforementioned "thing" is some sort of threesome between his brother and the two angels, but he stuffs that thought deep down because Gabriel would probably love to play with it for an hour or two. Instead he turns around in the Impala's seat and glares at the archangel, who's stretched out in the back as if he were relaxing on a chaise lounge.

"What do you want?" Sam asks, rubbing at the sore spot on his head. The vigorous movements cause his hair to flop over his eyes, and he hurriedly shoves it out of the way.

"Why don't you come back here and find out?" Gabriel says, his eyebrows waggling ridiculously. Sam shuts his eyes and counts to ten, then to fifteen for extra measure.

"Gabriel, would you cut it out? Please? This day has gotten weird enough without you popping in and making, um, suggestions that are never going to play out, with or without an angel condom." Sam regrets his choice of words instantly. He must have hit his head harder than he thought.

Gabriel laughs and sits up. He leans forward, still smiling, still looking ready to cause serious mayhem if the opportunity presents itself. He looks like he'd create the opportunity if necessary, truth be told.

"Ah, see? I knew you had a sense of humor hidden underneath all that long hair and behind that Neanderthal forehead."

"Whatever." Sam knows it's not exactly a snappy comeback, but he also knows he shouldn't goad Gabriel any more than he already has, purposely or otherwise. Just because he's here now, working with them instead of against, doesn't mean he's no longer a stellar pain in the ass. Even so, Sam's glad to have someone as powerful as Gabriel around. He can even admit that sometimes he's hysterically funny--when the joke's not taking aim at Sam, that is.

Amazingly, Gabriel doesn't say anything else. He doesn't tease or snicker or snap himself up a cocktail. He just sits there, looking at Sam with that damnable smile on his face. When he does speak, it's not any words Sam was expecting.

"That could have gone better. With Zachariah."

Sam shakes his head and grimaces. "I don't think there is any such thing as 'better' when it comes to dealing with Zachariah."

Sam had not expected Zachariah to back down on his demands that Dean give in to him, give in to Michael. No, Sam had not expected any compromise to be reached, but...he had hoped. For Dean's sake, Sam had hoped.

"I suppose not," Gabriel agrees, leaning back into the seat. "That asshole comes with his very own and rather questionable brand of free will."

Sam has to laugh a little at that, because it's true. Sure, Sam has lost his idealized faith in the idea of who and what angels are--and Gabriel played no small part in that--but that doesn't mean he thinks that much of what Zachariah and his cronies are up to is part of any Greater Being's master plan.

"So what are you doing out here?" Gabriel asks.

"Dean kicked me out, remember? He kicked all of us out," Sam answers. But there's a tickle in the back of his throat, scratching out words that read _You didn't actually see Castiel leave._

"And?" Gabriel asks, persistent as ever.

Sam rolls his eyes, but that just makes the sore spot on his head ache anew. "And I figured I might as well go for a drive or something, rather than sit around on the sidewalk, waiting until Dean decides to stop being pissy."

"Really?" Gabriel asks, sounding honestly confused. "You're going for a drive?"

"Yes, a _drive,"_ Sam replies, and he's nervous now, because the pleased look on Gabriel's face is a little frightening. Sam doesn't want to end up as KITT again, or even worse--Herbie the Love Bug.

"Then why oh why, Sammy, are you sitting in the passenger seat?"

And Sam wants to collapse. Wants to just melt right into the upholstery and not have to face this improbable archangel for one second more. He could just awkwardly move himself into the driver's seat, stick the keys in the ignition, and drive down the road with Gabriel's likely laughter for company. But Sam's tired. He's bone tired, physically and mentally, and that's why he didn't drive off in the first place, despite taking Dean's keys with him when he left without arguing. It's highly probable that he didn't argue because of the damn tiredness.

But Sam can't collapse, can't melt into anything because he has to stay on his guard against angels and devils alike who want to melt into him. He can, however, lean his forehead on the seat and close his eyes and--

"Hey. Kid."

Gabriel's voice is quiet. The touch of his hand on Sam's head is unexpected. Sam tenses, waiting for him to squeeze, but that's not what happens. Gabriel just ruffles his hair some, then threads his fingers through it and pulls. Hard.

"You have goofy hair."

"What the fuck!" Sam yells, pulling away, which is a mistake because _ow._ "Let go!"

"What'll you give me in return?" Gabriel asks, but he does release Sam's hair and lean back, reclining once more like he's sitting poolside.

Sam doesn't think that counting to ten, fifteen, or fifteen thousand is going to do him any damn good. He sits back up and looks out the window toward his and Dean's motel room. The lights are off now, but Sam is anything but convinced that Dean is sleeping, even though he's got to be just as tired as Sam. Sam hopes that Cas can give his brother at least a little bit of peace, if not any actual quiet.

Sam reaches into his pocket and takes out the keys. He looks at Gabriel, who's looking nearly human without that smile on his face. Sam tosses him the keys, which Gabriel catches one-handed.

"What are you--"

"I'm not sure I can go that far, Gabriel. I know I have to, but..."

Next thing Sam knows he's lying on the back seat and Gabriel is up front. He's in the driver's seat, body turned toward Sam, but Sam isn't sure what he did with the keys.

"Yeah, you have to," Gabriel agrees, "but not tonight."

Two fingers reach for Sam's forehead, and the engine rumbles.

**end**


End file.
